


Once Upon a Dream

by Riika_01



Category: Banana Bus Squad, The Misfits (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coffee Shops, College, Dreams, First Meetings, Happy Ending, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Memory Loss, Moving Out, Nicknames, One Shot, Random & Short, Short One Shot, Soulmates, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riika_01/pseuds/Riika_01
Summary: (Soulmate AU where you start dreaming of your soulmate after both have passed the age of 21)23 year old Jaren Smith has been having dreams about his soulmate, but every time he wakes up, he has no memory of it.How will he eventually recover those memories and finally meet his soulmate?
Relationships: John | KryozGaming/SMii7Y
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Once Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a fun idea I had, half taken from a prompt I saw on tumblr. Also I wanted to escape from my wip don't tell anyone.

It was dark, but also bright. Sometimes hot and cold switched in a matter or seconds, but the feeling remained the same: nothing.  
  
There was nothing. There was never anything. Everything was empty, lonely, and sometimes terrifying. He wasn't someone who could handle being in complete darkness, even if he enjoyed the quiet feeling of nothing in his own blackened bedroom.  
  
But ever since he moved to that quiet apartment alone, the feeling only grew.  
  
And now there he was; standing (or maybe flying?) on nothing, the darkness swallowing his body whole, or maybe it was too bright and his eyes were actually closed? Was he stuck in his own darkness? Would there ever be someone to tell him? Help him?  
  
Maybe not, but there was always that small fragment of hope in the furthest parts of his mind, the ones where bad memories and traumas are stored.  
  
The ones that come out only in the worst occasions.  
  
But this wasn't.  
  
A distant voice called his name, and the man turned around quickly, trying to figure out the voice's location.  
  
Trying to find out who, why or how they were there.  
  
The voice kept calling, and its calls were quiet, echoing softly in the emptiness of his mind.  
  
But it didn't stop. It never stopped. And he started chasing it, like he always does.  
  
"Who are you?" He repeated, sounding more and more desperate with each step. His breath quickened and his heartbeat was pounding heavily in his chest, begging him to stop and finally give up.  
  
"What do you mean who am I?" The voice asked, a soft chuckle following.  
  
 _Ah, that's right_.  
  
The man's chin dropped, his eyes slowly scanning the new area.  
  
The first thing he saw was the bright light that the moon emitted. It looked perfect, full and with that silver color that dragged you in more and more. The stars looked beautiful as well, each of them like a perfectly placed diamond in the universe.  
  
Usually, everyone glances at the night sky for a second, maybe two, but he was completely mesmerized.  
  
It felt as if his soul was being pulled out of his body, longing to be one with the moon, dancing gracefully from one star to the other.  
  
A loud crash caught the man's attention, and he looked down.  
  
The moon was there to greet him again. The man smiled kindly, pleased with the view in front of him.  
  
His eyes gently followed the crashing waves of the sea, the sounding making his body relax and getting even more pulled in.  
  
He wanted to stand up and walk in the ocean, letting his body gently get pushed by the waves and finally be free from his prison of meat.  
  
That's when he noticed that he was sitting down, his hands buried in the cold sand. He looked down at his stretched legs, his bare feet finally feeling the cold breeze of the ocean air.  
  
He giggled, the tickling feeling of sand between his toes made them curl up and dig more into the sand, his long sweatpants getting dirty in a heartbeat.  
  
He glanced at the white tennis shoes sitting right beside his knees.  
  
There were two pairs.  
  
He slowly turned his head to his left, and someone else was sitting beside him.  
  
It was a man, brunette hair and beautiful blueish eyes, who were staring directly at the other's eyes, breaking eye contact for a slight second before meeting each other again.  
  
Nobody said a word for what felt like decades, but it felt... familiar. It wasn't the first time they met each other, but they had no idea where or who the person staring at themselves in the other's eyes was.

The blue-eyed man smiled lightly, and the contagious gesture spread immediately, the man unable to take his eyes off the brunette's mole above his upper lip. For some reason, it felt right.  
  
It felt normal.  
  
It felt _real_.  
  
"Are you okay?" The brunette asked with a whisper, and the other's smile only grew. "You already know" He replied, his hand brushing away a strand of hair from the other's gaze.  
  
A chuckle followed. "You're so cheesy"  
  
They both fell into a gentle laugh, and the sound felt like they both regained a year of their lives back.  
  
That's when it struck: a word. Four simple letters gently falling perfectly together. A name.  
  
"John?" The man whispered, almost breathy. "I'm here" The blue-eyed man reassured gently, his fingers slowly sliding over the other's.  
  
It immediately felt so much better. What did? Everything did. The place, the atmosphere, the sounds, the view, the person he was enjoying it with.  
  
A simple gesture, yet so comforting and calming.  
  
John gently brush his finger over the other's cheek with his other hand, refusing to let go. "I'm always here" He whispered gently, his voice culling the other like a mother with her newborn child.  
  
"There's no need to cry, Jaren" John said, repeating the previous gesture.  
  
Jaren. That was his name.  
  
How could he forget? He's lived his whole life with that name, yet it never felt his. He never wanted to be "Jaren", but when John first spoke his name, he came to love it. The way it brushed past his lips and into his ears was like music to his soul.  
  
Then, he reflected on the words again, and he finally felt the cold and unpleasant sensation of a drip of water sliding along his chin, one that John missed.  
  
Jaren brought a hand to his face, his soft fingertips brushing along his jaw. John's expression bittered, and he gently whispered "You're okay" over and over, each syllable calming Jaren more and more.  
  
"Did I make you wait long?" John asked, trying to distract the other from whatever was making him tear up.  
  
Jaren didn't know exactly what John meant with that, so his head tilted to the side. A sigh followed, and John's hand fell from Jaren's cheek to the sandy floor. "You always forget, don't you?" He asked with a bitter smile, his nose high to the starry sky.  
  
"What– What do you mean? Do I know you?" Jaren asked, his words stabbing John directly in the chest. The brunette's face dropped, his eyes followed the waves crash calmly on the beach, lost somewhere in thought.  
  
But Jaren never stopped staring at John's eyes, the deep blue turning darker by the seconds.  
  
He looked lost.  
  
Lost somewhere far away, where nobody could reach him. Nobody could hear or see him. Somewhere outside this world probably, but that Jaren will never know.  
  
Jaren followed John's gaze and stared at the ocean, the sky now turned a dark purple. "You don't" The man finally answered, his teeth gritting and his hand squeezing Jaren's for dear life.  
  
It hurt, but he did his best to bear it. Whoever that was, Jaren was pretty sure he needed someone. Anyone.  
  
And the conversation dropped, nobody spoke a word for hours, but there was so much that Jaren wanted to ask; who are you? Why are you here? Where even _is_ here?  
  
But none of his questions got answered. The only thing Jaren was sure of was the overwhelming feeling of fear lingering in the back of his head.  
  
The fear of loss.  
  
It was pertinent, but very subtle. Almost invisible if he didn't pay enough attention. But he did, and that killed him.  
  
"Can you..." Jaren started, his voice cracking from the lack of use. He quickly cleared his throat and continued. "—Tell me things that you... know? About you or..." His voice trailed off, not even sure if he wanted to keep talking or drown himself in the ocean.  
  
But a chuckle caught his attention. His head turned towards John, who was just smiling to himself. "You never change, do you?" He said, his eyes staring deeply into Jaren's, almost capturing his whole body in freezing chains.  
  
"Your memory is the absolute worst. We've seen each other at least a thousand times, yet you never remember who I am" He added with a scoff, his face turning away from the man who considered him a stranger.  
  
Jaren was about to question John further, but the reply came quicker than the question. "You know my name is John, but you don't actually... "know" me" The man began, his free hand moving in the air. "You never did" He muttered.  
  
"I'm older than you, and I live in America, Vancouver" He pointed out, and that made the engines click in Jaren's mind. "Is that why I moved?" Jaren asked, mostly to himself, but the question surprised John more than anything else Jaren said.

"You did what?!" John asked, sitting up straight in a second. "You moved?! When? Where?"  
  
"Last week, I think... I'm not too sure" Jaren replied vaguely, unable to explain further, as if his memories were blocked off by an impenetrable metal door. "I'm sorry I... didn't tell you?" He apologized for his past self, but John shook his head.  
  
"It's a miracle that you remembered that" John joked, then brushed his hair back with his free hand as a sigh came from his lips. "Where in the world are you now, Jaren?" He muttered, his hair falling beautifully at the sides of his head, the line in the middle coming clear in seconds.  
  
Jaren was about to apologize again, but a loud and deafening ringing yelled in his ears. He jumped in surprise, and John looked up. "Ah, it's time already" He sighed, the bittersweet look in his eyes begging for more time.  
  
They shared one last look, and that was all it took to bring Jaren back to his senses ad a "See you tomorrow, Smitty" echoed in the darkness.  
  
The ringing was now clear and blasting in the sun-lit room. The man rubbed his forehead with a groan, sitting up straight to turn off his phone alarm.  
  
He absolutely hated morning classes, but he had to deal with it if he wanted to graduate college.  
  
Jaren stepped out of bed and exited his room, going straight into the bathroom to take care of his face before showing it to the world.  
  
When his reflection showed in the mirror, Jaren noticed a small red spot on his forehead. The man grunted and rubbed his finger on it, then gave an angry glare and scoffed. "Of fucking course" He grumbled as he undressed, turning on the shower.  
  
He waited a couple of second for the water to become warm, and he stepped in, and as soon as the water touched his skin, Jaren felt the stress immediately wash off his shoulders.  
  
Inside the glass shower, Jaren thought about a million things: the new country he moved into, the new apartment, college, the friends he lost, his family still in Canada.  
  
He had to move away from then, but it was a decision that had to be made. He wanted to graduate in architecture and he couldn't pass on a scholarship, even if it meant not seeing his friends and family that often.  
  
But now he was in America, where he knew nothing and nobody.  
  
Jaren finally stepped out of the shower, and the reality slapped him in the face when he stepped inside his room with only a towel wrapped around his waist: he was going to be late on his first day.  
  
"Shit"  
  
A couple of too fast movements later, Jaren was finally able to leave the house, but not before stepping back in to put on his usual blue, yellow and red cap.  
  
He rushed to the bus stop, managing to jump on the bus right before it left. The bus was pretty packed and he decided to stay up instead of looking for a seat somewhere while cursing himself for failing his driving test twice.  
  
A couple of stops passed, and the bus filled more and more, but fortunately Jaren's stop came quickly.  
  
The man stepped out with a slight struggle because of people not knowing that they need to wait for others to come out before going in.  
  
A five-minute walk (more like run) was all it took before Jaren was able to step on campus. He checked the time on his phone and cursed under his breath when the time showed that he was 3 minutes late already.  
  
He ran through the hallways, trying to figure out which classroom he was supposed to go in.  
  
Fortunately, he spotted the teacher and rushed in front of him, successfully stepping inside the classroom before it was too late.  
  
A sigh of relief escaped his lips and he scanned the room quickly for a free seat. When he spotted one, Jaren made his way and sat down, the exhaustion from the unnatural exercise finally getting to him.  
  
"And here I thought the new student was going to be late" The teacher scoffed as he put down his brown leather suitcase on the desk in front of the classroom.  
  
At the words "New student", Jaren's — and everyone else's — ears perked up, and the whole classroom's attention was directed towards the teacher. "Well, you are 30 minutes late, so–"  
  
Jaren interrupted the teacher by standing up. "I'm sorry" He apologized, still a bit out of breath, and he felt a thousand eyes on himself, which didn't help his breathing. "I had to– run here... I'm sorry" He half-lied, but the teacher rolled his eyes. "Since you're up already, introduce yourself. Keep it short" He instructed, and Jaren followed immediately.  
  
"Um... Hi?" He said towards the others. "I'm Jaren Smith and I transferred from Canada about a week ago. Nice to meet you" He introduced to the whole class, a small smile escaping at the end. He didn't love the attention, but he didn't hate it either.  
  
Then, he sat back down when the teacher told him to, and the lecture started shortly after.  
  
At the end of the class, Jaren closed his laptop and put it in his bag, but a hand knocked on his desk. The man glanced up and saw a woman with a white button-up shirt, high-waisted jeans and a pretty smile looking down at him.  
  
"Hi, um, nice to meet you" She said, her fingers awkwardly playing with a lock of her black, maybe waist-lenght hair. "Hi" Jaren greeted back with a smile, then stood up after closing his backpack. "My name is Chloe and... I was wondering if you wouldn't mind maybe taking a coffee together?" She asked, her cheeks a light shade of pink. Her eyes glanced towards Jaren's only a couple of times, then went back down to everything else.  
  
"Not at all" He said immediately, and the girl's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. She quickly took out a pen and a piece of paper from her black backpack and gave it to Jaren when she was done scribbling her number, a small flower was drawn on the up-left corner of the paper.  
  
"Text me when you're done with classes, bye!" Chloe rushed out of the room, her cheeks flushing red. Jaren smiled at the paper again when he read the number, saving it on his phone while he walked to his next class.

  
-

The school day was finally over, and an ocean of students came rushing out of the doors like a broken dam.  
  
And Jaren was one of the little droplets of water, simply walking out with the students who didn't have extra classes or extracurricular activities.  
  
He whipped out his phone from his jeans pocket, and while he searched for the new digit in his contacts, loud chattering picked up his attention.  
  
"Did you actually?!" A girl yelled in surprised, making the other squeal. "Yess!! It was my first time, so I didn't really know what to do but my soulmate is. so. hot!" The squealing girl said excitedly. "I met my soulmate, like, a month ago and I kinda miss our dream dates" The other said, clicking her tongue at the end.  
  
Jaren grit his teeth, his eyes closing as a deep breath came out slowly. In this world, everyone is tied up to someone else, a person who will always be there for them, cherish them and love no matter what: a soulmate.  
  
After the age of 21, both people involved will start meeting in dreams, and when those dreams stop, you have met your soulmate and are able to go back to having normal dreams.  
  
But Jaren is already 23 and his memories never seem to recall what the other person looks or sounds like. He's lucky if he even remembers fragments of them: once, he woke up with a faint smell of dark chocolate or whipped cream.  
  
Sometimes it's a sound: footsteps on fresh snow, the distant sounds of a bell ringing or one of the latest; ocean waves.  
  
Jaren quickly shook his head, coming back to Earth from his thoughts, and clicked on Chloe's contact, starting the call.  
  
After a few rings, the phone eventually picked up. "Hello? Who's this?" A feminine voice called. It sounded sweet, maybe a bit higher than what Jaren remembered.  
  
"Hey, it's Jaren. You invited me to coffee?" He greeted with a smile, even if she couldn't see it. He heard a bit of shuffling and some girl's yells, picking up a "You go girl!" and "Shut up Bethany!"  
  
Jaren chuckled and the girl quickly apologized for the noise. After a bit of small talk, the two decided to meet at the gate and walk from there since the shop was a few blocks away.  
  
As he waited by the gate, Jaren replied to some of the messages he got while he was in the last lecture, and those included family members and some of his closest friends.  
  
A tap on his shoulder caught Jaren's attention, and he turned around. The girl from that morning stood there, maybe wearing more make-up than she did before. "Sorry, did you wait long?" Chloe asked, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear.  
  
Jaren shook his head slowly with a smile. "Shall we?" He said with a small bow, making the girl chuckle.  
  
And the two of them started walking, some small talk accompanied them as they got to know each other.  
  
Jaren thought that Chloe was sweet, your usual shy and cheerful cotton flake.  
  
When they finally arrived, Chloe opened the door and stepped inside, the small ring of the bell chimed in the shop. The smell of coffee beans and chocolate immediately filled Jaren's lungs. The air was sweet and the atmosphere was perfect to enjoy a nice cup of coffee while reading your favorite book or doing some work.  
  
Plus, even if it was populated, it still remained pretty quiet, with only a small murmur and the sound of coffee brewing.  
  
"Hi, what can I get for you?" A man at the counter asked. His voice was low, but still sounded pretty sociable. For some reason, the man got Jaren's attention, immediately sinking in deep into his brain, shaping it to exactly remember everything about the stranger: the fluffy and messy brown hair, a messy beard he looks to have struggled with, chapped lips and a mole right above them.  
  
"Oh I'll take a chocolate Frappuccino with whipped cream and lots of sprinkles, thank you" She ordered cheerfully, a smile on her face. "What about you, Jaren?" She asked, and Jaren's attention was brought back to the woman. "Oh, uh–"  
  
"Jaren?" The employee inquired, his eyes wide in surprise. "Do I... know you?" Jaren asked, the man looking weirdly familiar.  
  
The words looked like they stabbed the stranger right into his back, his teeth grinding against each other. "Sorry, one of my old friends has the same name" He said with a chuckle.  
  
For his order, Jaren decided to go with one of Chloe's recommendations: a Frappuccino with cinnamon, vanilla, whipped cream and dark chocolate.  
  
They both sat at an empty booth and started talking about nothings, but all Jaren could think about was the weird stranger who presented in front of him. Why did he look so familiar? Did he meet him somewhere in the streets? Maybe a hidden celebrity? A family friend he's seen when he was 4 maybe?  
  
"Jaren? Are you listening?" Chloe asked, leaning over the table to catch the man's attention. "Sorry, I got distracted, what were you–"  
  
"Here's your order" The employee interrupted, placing down two cups in front of the two customers, then left with a quick smile.  
  
The word "Chloe" was spelled on the woman's drink, and when she looked at Jaren's, she immediately called the man again. "Excuse me, I think you got the wrong one?" She said. The man gave a bittersweet smile, but when he was about to take the drink back, Jaren reached for it and gently took it out of Chloe's hands.

A nickname only his closest childhood friends know, maybe even they forgot, but the word "Smiity" was right there on the cup. It even had the smiley face under the two i's, like he used to write as a child.

"How did you know?" Jaren asked the man, who bit his lower lip. He stared at Jaren for a few seconds, then turned his head away to avoid his gaze. "It's been two years, come on" He mumbled, and Jaren almost dropped his drink.  
  
"John?" He said quietly. A name so simple, so common, yet so forgettable.  
  
But this time, Jaren might be able to remember it forever.  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked reading! Kudos, Comments and Bookmarks are greatly appreciated


End file.
